


Be Afraid of the Cold.They'll Inherit Your Blood

by Sanguis



Series: Thunder from the Skies. Hail of Burning Ice [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dark!Thor, I mean that, Loki and Thor are up to no good, M/M, Warning: Loki, can you tell it's like 3 am, dark!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 14:23:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanguis/pseuds/Sanguis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asgard hails a new king, but in his shadow walks a grinning wraith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Afraid of the Cold.They'll Inherit Your Blood

The Jötunn is thin and tall, just not the right size for one of Jötunheimr. The Einherjar bring him forth in chains, as if he’s some wild animal that the Æsir must try to tame. Thor looks into those red eyes and knows better.

Odin is weary and Frigga is gentle; she would rather the boy return to his home. “The war has ended,” she tells her husband. “There’s no need for relics.” Odin shakes his head; relics will remind the people why wars ought to be avoided. He doesn’t understand that when Frigga acquiesces, she’s seeing obscurer paths than he has imagined.

Asgard’s golden prince gains a war-prize.

.

“Loki,” he says is his name.

 _Witch_ , Asgard learns to call him, spitting.

.

As a child, Thor runs through the halls of Asgard, carrying Loki on his back. Loki is light, but he’s also bony even if he eats twice as much as Thor. His Æsir skin is soft and impossibly white; it bruises every time Thor forgets how much force he uses when he drags Loki around by his wrist. Thor has his own bruises: the ones on his ribs when Loki pushes his stick-like elbows into them, the ones on his shoulder when Loki grabs hold of them with his spidery fingers, and the shape of his little feet every time he kicks Thor off the bed.

Every other week, Loki is angry. He sets his room on fire, freezes the burning remains, and then falls asleep, exhausted. Thor curls around Loki and lies there until his lips turn blue. After the third time, Odin talks to Loki.

At supper, the Æsir’s meals are full of blood and insects.

Odin sighs.

.

They grow; Thor is copper and bronze, gold and steel. Loki is the black oil that makes him shine.

Loki forgets how the cold of Jötunheimr can sit upon his skin, but he knows how to bury the ice deep within his heart. Around this beautiful crystal, sits Thor, as bright and warm as a thousand of Asgard’s yellow suns. In turn, Loki is the ice encasing a core of molten gold in Thor’s heart.

Loki appreciates Frigga’s charm. On particularly warm afternoons, he joins her in the gardens of Fensalir and drinks her sweet tea. He calls her “Moðir.” 

Thor and Loki are quiet, wandering through the halls of Asgard like lost souls. When the dvergar finally bestow Mjölnir upon Thor, Loki and he disappear for an entire month, only to return as wilder creatures; with longer hair, deeper scars, darker souls. Frigga sighs too; The Nornir have given her difficult, albeit lovely, boys. She combs their hairs, one at a time, in the hopes that they will tell her their secrets of their own volition. They don’t, of course.

She sees them, though, limbs twined and hearts beating in the same rhythm. 

.

Odin sleeps. Asgard hails their new King.

A wraith walks in his shadow, and Asgard quakes when he grins.

.

Blood streams down the steps of Hliðskjálf. Thor sits like a barbarian upon it, legs thrown over the armrest. The doors of Gladsheimr creak open and Loki strides in, dressed all in black, save for the silver chain Thor had once given him. He climbs the steps to the throne and kneels before his King.

“I’ve killed righteous men for you today,” says Thor. “I hope to be handsomely rewarded.”

Loki’s smile is wicked as he licks the blood from Thor’s fingers. It tastes all the sweeter when Thor takes him on the throne Odin had once sat upon.

.

 _He roasts the hearts of every man who looks at him wrong on linden-wood fire, and eats them_ , the Æsir whisper.

Loki scoffs at such silly rumours.

He prefers the hearts raw.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this was going but I saw some fanart by wantstobelieve on tumblr and suddenly had this burning desire for a fic where Thor is King and Loki is his consort/wife/thrall and because Loki is a little shit, he has Thor kill people for fun. Sadly, this was all I could come up with.
> 
> The heart eating comes from Völuspá hin skamma (according to wiki): 
> 
> Loki ate some of the heart, the thought-stone of a woman,  
> roasted on a linden-wood fire, he found it half-cooked;


End file.
